All We Know Fades
by TheNightmirage
Summary: Sara woke after activating the purifier to a world still unspeakably empty without her father or a home. Then she met Knight Captain Durga who was rude, abrasive, and more human than anyone she'd ever encountered. F!LW/ Durga  the Citadel Quartermaster .
1. Awakening

_2-1-6_.

There was nothing else it could be, Sara mused, as she pressed each button in turn. She found her hands were shaking, which surprised her. She didn't think she was afraid to die-what was there to live for? The Capital Wasteland was greedy. It took everything and left nothing. Her father was dead. Her former best friend had banished her permanently from the only home she'd ever known. She'd killed people, and even though all the murders had been in self-defense, the blood of those victims still stung in her throat.

With the correct sequence of numbers entered, the purifier began to whir into life. The numbers on the pad began to swim in front of her eyes; blurring and clearing with dizzying rapidity. She turned to face the glass window and peered out into the rotunda.

She immediately met Dogmeat's eyes and saw the confusion in them. A wave of sadness swept over her. She was wrong when she thought there was nothing left to live for: Dogmeat genuinely loved her. A part of this was for him. When she was gone he could run freely to the Jefferson Memorial and drink all the clean water he wanted.

"It's okay," she said to him, even though she knew he couldn't hear it through the thick pane of glass. "It's okay."

Sara glanced over at Sentinel Lyons and saw the woman place her hand on the glass before she, Sara, suddenly found herself on the floor. She was vaguely aware of some pain in her knees: they must have collided with the floor as she fell. She rolled as a wave of nausea overtook her and caught sight of the face of Jefferson through the window.

A smile spread up across her dry lips. Hope. There was hope.

_White, white, white, white. _

_A flash of her father, her mother, Amata; all just out of reach._

"_Shit, she's alive!"_

"_She'll be…what about Lyons…?_

_A signature "Aroo"_

_A pretty, unfamiliar face…brown strands of hair….the clink of metal_

"_It's been over a week! You assured me they would wake-"_

"_I assure you, Elder, they will."_

"_Must this dog be in here?"_

_The ceiling._

The ceiling? Sara blinked furiously at the grayish, green material above her. Where was she?

She gingerly placed her hands by her sides. Her fingers met cold metallic. She jerked her fingers away in surprise at the pain of the coldness. Her vision swam again.

A warm pair of large hands slid underneath her shoulder blades and gently pushed her into a seated position. She immediately recognized the feel of the intensely calloused hands on her skin.

"Fawkes?" she mumbled.

"Yes, my friend," the Super Mutant rumbled. The sound of his voice caused happiness to swell inside of her like a balloon. Fawkes hadn't been with them in the Rotunda-this is meant she was somehow back in the Citadel. "I am glad to finally see you are awake."

"As am I," a kind voice sounded to her left. Sara looked over at the smiling face of Elder Lyons.

"Wha' happened?" Sara slurred. It was difficult to get the words out: her tongue felt thick and heavy with fatigue. She hoped Fawkes wouldn't withdraw his grip on her, fearing she might slump back over if he did so.

"You started the purifier over at the Jefferson Memorial. That was two weeks ago."

"Where's….Sentinel Lyons?"

"You were both safely retrieved after the blast of radiation knocked you both unconscious. The doctor assures me she will wake too. Seeing you conscious gives me renewed hope for her recovery."

"Thas' good." She smiled up at Fawkes sleepily. "When I went in…I figured that was it for me."

"I must ask you what occurred at Raven Rock," Elder Lyons urged. Sara searched the fuzzy confines of her mind in search of an answer.

"Blew it up," she finally concluded. She again noted how grateful she was that Fawes was holding her up. She felt drunk, as drunk as she'd been that one night after James died and she'd found herself in Megaton in the easy, sultry company of Nova…

"Allow me to be clearer. I meant to ask what happened when you spoke to President Eden."

"Oh!" The loudness of her own voice startled her. Images from two weeks ago were pouring into her awareness faster than she could process them. "He gave me a vial…a vial of….uh…F….shit….F….FEV!" She heard Fawkes groan at the very mention of the disease.

"Eden told me to put it in the purifier when we activated it," Sara pressed on. "But I didn't. I have it…here….where's my stuff?"

Elder Lyons made a motion to a paladin behind him who crossed the room, pulled a worn traveling bag from the depths of a locker and handed it to the young woman. She dug through it with clumsy fingers, grazing Stimpacks, a pack of shotgun shells, and the edge of an old photograph before finding the smooth exterior of the vial.

"Here," she said as she pulled it out. "Take it. You know how to get rid of it." Elder Lyons held out an open hand, and she pressed the vial firmly into it.

"Thank you," he said. "The Brotherhood will see that this is properly disposed of."

Sara gingerly hoisted herself up into a steadier seated position. Fawkes, sensing her stubbornness surfacing again, slowly let go. He was relieved to see the almost immediate reappearance of the trait that so thoroughly caused him to clash heads with Sara. It meant she had remained completely herself, despite the nearly lethal blast of radiation and two week coma.

"Considering all that has happened, "Elder Lyons continued, "I think it only fair that we bypass the usual rites of initiation and declare you a member of the Brotherhood of Steel."

"Really?" Sara stared at the Elder in disbelief. "I mean…thank you, but I haven't done much-"

"Haven't done much?" Lyons repeated incredulously.

"I mean…yes, I've helped you all, but I did most of it for my…" The words caught in her throat as it constricted with renewed grief. "Dad."

"And I hope that you will continue to excel in the service of the Brotherhood in memory of your exceptional father. Now, unless there is anything else you require, I will leave you to your thoughts,"

"Where's my dog?" Sara asked. Lyons' mouth got noticeably thinner.

"He is probably poking around in the Armory." The irritation in the Elder's voice was evident, even to Fawkes whose grasp of social cues was less than stellar at best. "You may go down and collect him, but Sawbones has made it very clear you are not to overexert yourself."

"Right…thank you," Sara replied, a hint of a smile twisting at the corners of her lips. Of course Dogmeat was off getting himself involved in matters he shouldn't as on par with his propensity to fall into broken sections of pavement throughout the Wasteland or to bound fearlessly toward a Talon Company Merc who wielded a heavy incinerator while Sara ran screaming behind him, waving a Stimpack at the ready.

Elder Lyons nodded kindly at her and turned to face his unconscious daughter. He reached out and carefully tucked a strand of blonde hair that had worked free of Sentinel Lyons' signature bun behind her ear before sighing sadly and moving out into the exterior hallway.

The very sight made Sara want to burst into tears. Sentinel Lyons would wake to the sight of her caring father who obviously valued her immeasurably. James was _fucking _dead. He would never again be right around the corner when she woke, able to make her laugh away a vivid nightmare or protect her from the harsh words of others. No, instead she'd roused to the company of a strangely human, yet still ultimately terrifying looking, Super Mutant and an old man who would have far preferred the other young woman in the room to wake first.

"Come on, Fawkes. Let's go find the furry dumbass."

"What?" he drawled. Sara sighed in exasperation.

"Dogmeat. The only furry dumbass we know." She lowered her voice and muttered to herself "Unless you've become furry. Then I would know two."

She swung her legs over the side of the cold gurney and slid down to the floor. She landed harder than she'd meant to on her right ankle and wobbled dangerously. Fawkes reached over and grabbed her by the bicep.

"I'm fine!" Sara insisted, swatting his saucepan sized hand away. "Just a little bit unsteady."

"Perhaps I should hold onto you for a while. There are many stairs throughout the Citadel, my friend."

"Fine," Sara conceded. "I'll hold your hand." She slid her hand into his and he gripped most of her forearm. "You realize how ridiculous this looks, don't you?" Fawkes cracked a smile.

"We live in a ridiculous world," he replied.


	2. Flashback

Sara and Fawkes' slow, carefully paced trip through the Citadel's B-Ring proved quiet and uneventful. However, the moment the Super Mutant pushed the door open into A-Ring (then promptly stood in it and blocked Sara's way entirely until she made a very audible sound of irritation), his companion was barraged by a flood of enthusiastic paladins, knights, and initiates who were wandering around.

"You honor us with your presence!"

"Welcome back!"

"Hail!"

"It is wonderful to see you awake!"

Sara was completely overwhelmed by the outpouring of camaraderie from Brotherhood members she had never met.

"Thanks…" she replied hazily to each outcry. She kept a firm grip on Fawkes' hand, clinging to what seemed the only semblance of normalcy. Everything else was strange: two weeks ago she'd walked into an irradiated room (mostly) prepared to lay down her life to ensure her parents' dream came to fruition; now she was walking through the Citadel as a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, while holding a Super Mutant's hand.

"Knight Fairchild!" It took Sara a moment to realize it was her name being called. The only person who had ever called her by her last name was Overseer Almodovar whenever he'd wanted to degrade her in front of Amata—which was often. And to be called Knight…

A middle-aged man, with a menacing green-tipped unknown weapon strapped to his back, came striding down the hallway toward Sara and Fawkes. The initiates shrank back against the wall as he passed them.

"Uh…hello," Sara said. The man was intimidating, to say the least. He was at least a foot taller than her with a mouth that looked as though it had never smiled.

"Well, well, look who's back amongst the living. I am Paladin Tristan," he told her, extending a hand. She suddenly and painfully remembered the many times James had impressed upon her the importance of giving a firm, confident handshake.

_"It truly makes or breaks a first impression, honey. Even though you know Stanley as a friend, you have to get to know him as your employer now. He already likes you. If you go in there and show confidence in your handshake, he'll be sold on your abilities."_

She took Tristan's hand and shook it. He seemed pleased.

"I don't think we've met," she said, hoping they really hadn't and her brain was still in working order.

"We have not. I am often out in the field. I am temporarily the acting field commander while Sentinel Lyons recovers."

"I see." Sara could find little else to say.

"I had hoped we would meet soon. Elder Lyons insists that you stay here and recover for a while longer, but I would be honored to have you join me in the field as soon as you are able."

"Really?" Sara glanced up at Fawkes uncertainly. "Uh…I'm flattered, Paladin Tristan."

"I trust you will be steady enough on your feet soon. May we meet again in the near future." Tristan nodded curtly and continued down the hallway, again parting the thinning crowd of initiates and knights.

Fawkes noticed that Sara fell unusually quiet after this encounter, as she was apt to do when deep in thought. Though he had never met the man, Fawkes assumed she looked very much like her father when she did this.

"What's on your mind?" he asked. Sara pursed her lips as she tried to find the right words to express her thoughts.

"Everyone thinks I'm some sort of hero-"

"You are a hero," Fawkes interjected. She glared at him.

"That doesn't help." They walked in silence for a few seconds.

"I don't know," Sara finally pressed on. "Three Dog hollers about all this stuff I've done on the radio, and all those Brotherhood members back there were so happy to see me awake. I just feel like it's all so overblown. I did so much of those supposed accomplishments to find my dad and to recognize his dream, and what for? I'd give anything…trade all of these experiences…to be back in the Vault with my dad and Amata like it used to be."

"It is not all overblown. You helped those freed slaves set up at the Lincoln Memorial."

"Because I knew my dad would want me to."

"You killed the queen of the fire ants and helped that little boy find a home."

"First of all, I didn't want to kill the damn queen because Lesko promised me caps. You're the one who ran in there and completely obliterated her with your laser before I could say anything. And my dad always helped people in need. Why wouldn't I do the same?"

Fawkes pushed open the door to the laboratory and held it open for Sara to pass through. Her head swam at the sight of so many stairwells to traverse.

"I believe your fame is well earned," he insisted.

"I was always James' daughter," she said, more to herself than to her Super Mutant companion. "I don't know how to just be Sara."

Their trip down the stairs was a combined, and rather valiant, effort considering Fawkes' huge girth and Sara's general unsteadiness. However, they made it to the Armory with all limbs still intact. Dogmeat barked from within, in response to an unfamiliar voice. Sara's heart leapt at the very sound of it; grief-stricken thoughts of the past she'd lost fleeing her mind for the moment.

"Dogmeat!" she called. An excited skittering followed, and the dog poked his head out from the Armory. Both wanderer and dog made sounds of joy at the sight of one another.

Sara ripped her forearm from Fawkes' grasp, despite his protests, and ran to meet her dog. The mutt smashed his snout into the place where her neck and shoulder met as she wrapped him in a gleeful hug. He began showering her face with licks, although he was having difficulty maintaining his balance as his tail was wagging so furiously.

"You're such a good boy!" Sara cooed, laughing at Dogmeat's ecstatic welcome. "I missed you so much!"

Metal creaked from somewhere within the Armory, as if a cell door was swinging open, and a few seconds later a young woman stepped into sight. She couldn't be much older than Sara. Her hair, a pretty shade of brown, was pulled back into the signature bun of female Brotherhood members. A flicker of recognition flashed in the back of Sara's mind, but she could not ever remember meeting this woman.

"I see master and dog have been reunited," the woman said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. "What is it you call him? Dogmeat?"

"Yeah," Sara replied, dodging several enthusiastic licks from the mutt in order to address the woman directly.

"Interesting name," the woman commented with a less than subtle hint of sarcasm.

"It just kind of stuck when I met him," Sara said, a bit defensively. "He responds well to it."

"He responds well to anyone that's nice to him. He's been spending a lot of his time in the Armory here with me. I mostly just called him Dog, and he seemed to respond well to that too."

"Yeah…thanks for looking after him." Sara was eager to leave the presence of this snide woman.

Luckily, a rather frantic initiate came bustling in, slinking along the wall to avoid brushing against Fawkes. He held several pieces of what appeared to have once been a laser rifle.

"Uh…" he began. The young woman caught sight of the broken weapon in his hands and scoffed.

"How many times do I have to tell you to actually take care of your damn weapons, Olsen?" she snapped. "Or should I have a word with Paladin Gunny about how he's going too easy on you?" The color in the initiate's face drained at the very mention of Gunny.

"I have been taking better care of it! Gunny had me out on patrol with Lorenzo, and a Super Mutant did _this_! It just took one shot. It's not my fault!"

"I'm charging you for this repair. You're using up all our spare parts, and I can't buy anymore without you handing over some caps."

"Nice to have met you," Sara said, tersely. She shoved her way past Fawkes back out into the laboratory, glad to be away from this woman's constant belittling. Dogmeat and the Super Mutant followed (Fawkes banged his head on the low doorframe and swore loudly which caused several nearby scribes to jump).

"Let's walk around the Courtyard," Sara suggested to her companions. "I think we could all use some fresh air after that meeting."

"Sara!" She almost swore as loudly as Fawkes. Could she not get _one damn moment_ of peace? Composing herself, she turned to face whoever had called her name.

A genuine smile broke out on her face when she saw it was Star Paladin Cross. She rushed to clear the distance between them and hugged the woman who had escorted her as an infant to Vault 101. Cross patted her awkwardly on the back, unsure how else to respond to this gesture. Unlike the nineteen year old now wrapped around her, Cross was not one for hugging.

"I am delighted to see you are up and about and well. I have been checking on you in the hospital whenever I had a moment to spare." Sara relinquished her grip on the Star Paladin, much to Cross's relief. "Your father would be most proud of all you have done." Sara shook off the mention of James, unwilling to think about him for the moment.

"Thanks for your concern. I'm feeling really good, but I'm still a little unsteady on my feet. Fawkes has been helping me get around."

Cross' gaze quickly flashed to the Super Mutant and back and a flicker of disgust spread across her face before she quickly composed herself. No matter how different this particular mutant proved himself to be, Cross could not separate him from all the atrocities she had seen committed by his kind.

"How are the efforts against the Enclave going?" Sara asked her, eager for information.

"They are a formidable foe," Cross admitted. "Of course, since you destroyed Raven Rock they have scattered across the Wasteland. They seem to have another base, but we're not entirely certain where it is located yet. I hear Paladin Tristan requested your help once you are well enough now that you are a knight." Sara decided not to confide in Cross her opinion that Elder Lyons was sorely mistaken in quickly initiating her into the Brotherhood.

"Before you go out to assist Paladin Tristan you must be sure to have Knight Captain Durga repair your things. Many of your possessions are in disarray from the assault on the Memorial."

"Where can I find Durga?"

"I believed you had met her. You just exited the Armory, did you not?"

"Yes…"

"Knight Captain Durga is our Quartermaster."

"Oh, so that's her name," Sara said with an air of severe annoyance. "I think I'll just have Scribe Bowditch repair my things."

"If you insist, but Knight Captain Durga is very knowledge in repairs, even more so than any of our scribes."

"Knight Captain Durga is also a particularly hateful individual." Cross's usual neutral demeanor broke at these words. She had never known Sara to speak so negatively of someone, not even some girl called Amata who Cross secretly thought had broken Sara's heart in more ways than one when she had banished her from the Vault.

"Yes, perhaps Knight Captain Durga can be a bit…abrasive at times," Cross conceded. "But she is a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, as are you, and brothers should not speak of each other in such ways."

Sara felt a flare of anger shoot through her veins at this reproach, but she did not pursue it. Cross had done so much for her; she did not deserve disrespect.

"I was on my way to take a walk in the courtyard if you don't mind," she told the star paladin. Despite her refusal to lash out at Cross, her anger seeped through in her words.

"Not at all. If you require anything at all, please seek me out."

"Yeah. Come on, guys."

Half an hour later, Sara lay curled up in a bed just outside the mess hall. She had escaped the company of Fawkes by feigning dizziness. The Super Mutant had forcibly escorted her to this bed, waited until she was "asleep" and then left with Dogmeat to wander the Citadel.

Now that the room was empty and the hallway very quiet, Sara reached out and pulled her traveling canvas bag toward herself. She reached into it and pulled out the old photograph her fingers grazed earlier in their search for the vial of FEV. It was wrinkled with age and travel and depicted the two most recent Vault escapees some nine years earlier.

A younger, happier looking James stood in a lab coat with an arm around ten year old Sara. She smiled slightly at the picture of who she had once been. The young girl with light red hair proudly brandished the BB gun she'd just received. The Pip-Boy on her arm glowed brightly in the darkness of the Vault 101 basement.

Sara felt a wave of grief rise like vomit in her throat as she gazed at the photo. She missed not only the man in the picture, but the one who had taken it too. She had not thought of Jonas much since her escape from the Vault, too caught up in the cheap tricks of Colin Moriarty and the arrogant brilliance of Dr. Madison Li. She missed him dearly though-he had proven a loyal friend, certainly more so than Amata. As she thought of her father and his warm-hearted assistant, her thoughts invariably turned to the night two years ago when the two men had proven their unswerving love for her…

_The floor in her bedroom was colder than she could ever remember it being as Sara paced up and down it in the dim fluorescent lighting of the Vault. She supposed it would be logical to put on some socks: they were, after all, in a drawer not three feet from her current position. Some part of her would not let her do it though. Some part of her felt as though she must suffer for the way she was feeling; must suffer for the words she was preparing to say to her father in his office in the next room._

_ She'd been at least vaguely aware of these feelings for years-she could even remember feeling them at her tenth birthday party seven years ago. However, it had taken a black eye received from Butch the day of the G.O.A.T for her to realize the extent of them. Nobody stood up for her best friend so blindly when that best friend often conveniently forgot to pay attention to you. Unless you were in love with said best friend._

_ The thing that scared Sara the most was the uncertainty. Her father was certainly capable of keeping secrets (he'd never said a word even though they all knew Susie Mack had gotten pregnant last year and he had given her something to terminate it). But teenage pregnancy was one thing…hell, at least it meant Susie was fertile and could continue the Vault's dwindling gene pool._

_ She had to tell someone though, and who better than her doting father? She knew with certainty he would never stop loving her, but she harbored the fear that he would be secretly disappointed. Certainly he wanted grandchildren, and she was his only hope for them._

_ Sara placed her hands on her desk and looked up at her reflection in the mirror. An ashen-faced girl in blue pajamas stared back at her. When she was younger she'd used to pretend the reflection was her mother (James insisted she looked so much like Catherine when Sara knew she was the spitting image of her father) and talk to it. A newfound fear flashed through her at this memory. Would her mother be disappointed that her only daughter liked other girls? Was her mother in some sort of afterlife now, hanging in her head in shame because of how her child had turned out?_

_ "I can do this, Mommy," she said, reverting to the name she'd long ago called her reflection. "Please don't let him hate me."_

_ Swallowing her terror, Sara plodded out into the narrow hallway of the apartment and knocked on her father's open doorframe. James jumped at the intrusion; he had obviously been absorbed in his work._

_ "If this is a bad time…" Sara said, desperately wanting a way out._

_ "Not at all," James replied. "I was just catching up on some reading." He caught sight of her face and concern immediately creased his forehead. "What's wrong, honey?"_

_ "Dad, I'm gay." The two stared at one another for what Sara felt must have been eternity. She finally broke their state; her gaze fled to the floor as horror rushed red into her face. That was not how this was supposed to go. She'd rehearsed this speech. Why the hell had she just blurted it out?_

_ "Okay." It was all he said. She couldn't bring herself to look at him and instead contented herself with speaking to her feet._

_ "Do you hate me?"_

_ "Do I…honey, how could you think such a thing?" He rose to his feet, and she ran into his open arms without thinking._

_ "I'm sorry…I'm sorry," she sobbed into his shoulder._

_ "Don't apologize," he told her. "Don't ever apologize for who you are."_

_ "I wanted to tell you ages ago…but I couldn't because-" She hiccupped through her tears and they both laughed. "I thought you'd be mad. I don't want to disappoint you. Or Mom…"_

_ He placed a gentle hand on her back and swayed slightly on the spot, rocking her as he'd done seventeen years earlier in the long nights when they'd both cried: she because of colic and he because of Catherine's absence._

_ "Is it Amata?" he finally asked._

_ "Yeah," she admitted into his shoulder. "It's always been Amata."_

_ "Hey James, I finally got those files you asked for. The computer's been on the fritz lately so that's why it took me so…oh sorry." Jonas stopped abruptly in the doorway, a computer chip in his hand and his glasses askew with excitement._

_ "No, it's okay," Sara told him, pulling free of her father's hug and wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. _

_ "What's going on, kid?" Jonas asked, genuinely concerned. Sara glanced back at her father who nodded._

_ "Uh…I'm a lesbian," she admitted. Jonas didn't even flinch._

_ "Oh, cool. Should I…congratulate you or something?" Sara and James both laughed again._

_ "No," she told him._

_ "Okay. Hey, did you want to see these files too? They're from about 85 years ago so I don't think it's really a breach of confidentiality. This lady was absolutely insane. She was convinced that dead people lived in the walls so she went around "bleaching" them out with Sugar Bombs."_

_ "Definitely!" Sara sidled into her usual place, hunched over the glowing computer screen between her father and Jonas. James placed a warm hand on her face and smiled at her._

_ "You know you've always got Jonas and I, honey."_

In a blind rage that she did not recognize or understand, Sara crumpled the photograph up and threw it across the room. Her father had lied. She would not always have him and Jonas. They were both dead because James decided to abandon them in the Vault and run off to complete some crackpot project that his daughter had foolishly almost died for.

"Fuck you, Dad. Who do I have now?"

**A/N: I promise I'll get more to the relationship between Durga and Sara soon. I wanted to take some time to focus on Sara's background first. As a heterosexual, I obviously never had to come out to anyone, but I have many friends who have done so. I hope I handled the situation delicately and respectfully.**


	3. Black Out

The next three days ran together. Sara divided her time between dozing, tucked away against the cuddly warmth of Dogmeat's fur, roaming the Citadel to exercise her tight, sore muscles, and pointedly refusing to pick the photograph she'd thrown up from the corner it now lay pathetically crumpled in. Fawkes only annoyed her, even though she knew his far too frequent visits meant he cared.

Sara felt as though she had somehow become trapped in a few agonizing moments while the rest of the world around her moved forward as it always did. Not even the nuclear holocaust had managed to wipe out humanity's daily doings. They weren't about to stop for her.

Sometimes, usually in the dead of the night, she suddenly felt as though she was choking. The Citadel walls were smoke and ash and death, and they closed around her mind exhausted from lack of real, deep sleep. She clung to Dogmeat as the steady continuation of her breath reminded her that she was still alive. He was more attuned to her feelings than anyone else and usually reassured her with a series of groggy licks.

Other times, when her mind had settled into a comfortable semblance of sleep, she was back at Project Purity. Her father fell against the door separating them, mouthing for her to go, and Colonel Autumn laughed. Sometimes, she was in the room with him, and as the radiation coursed through their bodies James reached out to her and said at least Project Purity didn't disappoint him.

Early in the morning on her fourth day at the Citadel, Sara again woke from a blurry nightmare. The scream trying to escape from her lips fell back into her throat as she realized it was Dogmeat she held, not her dead father. The dog sighed happily in his sleep, and his paws twitched as though he were running free in a dream.

It was just after 3 AM, according to the glow of her Pip-Boy. She was suddenly anxious to be out of the bed, so she carefully navigated her way over the sleeping dog and climbed out. Naturally, as soon as her feet touched the floor Dogmeat's eyes flew open and his ears perked up. As much as she adored his silent, understanding company, Sara needed to be alone.

"Go back to sleep, Dogmeat," she coaxed, running a soothing hand down his coat. "Guard the bed for me."

It took a few minutes of stroking and whispering, but Dogmeat gradually drifted back to sleep. He stretched out across the bed, effectively taking up the whole thing. Sara pulled on her orange striped knee socks, a gift from Amata from long ago, to protect her feet from the cold and quietly exited the room. Dogmeat did not follow.

She emerged into an eerily still lab. A few dim lights flickered feebly overhead. In any other place, Sara would have been a bit creeped out.

She stopped by the orange grid that pinpointed the locations of the vaults throughout the Wasteland. The cursor slid soundlessly over the point that was Vault 101. She wanted to smash the stupid screen in with her fists for mocking her. She knew she'd lost everything. This computer didn't have to _fucking _remind her.

"Insomnia?"

Sara almost screamed and nearly fell onto the grid in front of her. She whipped around, heart hammering painfully, and found Knight Captain Durga far too damn close. She almost didn't recognize the young woman without her power armor. She was clad in a black cami and dusty khaki pants and didn't seem like a knight captain at all.

"Holy shit!" Sara gasped, placing a hand on her chest. "Do you even know?…I almost punched you!"

"I'd like to see you try." Oh wonderful. She was rude _and _arrogant.

"I know I could. It's not like you're out here in the action."

"Oh, I didn't realize limping around holding a Super Mutant's hand meant action."

"Are you always this mean?" Sara snapped.

"No. Mostly just to you newbies." It took Sara a few seconds to register what Durga said. She'd expected a resounding "Yes"; an affirmation that the young woman was, in fact, always this awful.

"Well, I don't fucking need it right now, okay?" A genuine smile spread across Durga's face.

"You know, you're the first person I've heard drop the 'f bomb' since I joined the Brotherhood. It's refreshing to hear."

Sara just stared. That was one of the strangest things anyone had ever said to her.

"What's your name, by the way?" Durga pressed on. "I mean, your real name. Star Paladin Cross keeps insisting I seek you out and repair your stuff. She said you were a little put-off by our first meeting."

"Sara. I'm Sara."

"I'm Kristen."

Manners that James had drilled into her mind almost made her say "Nice to meet you", but Sara bit her tongue. It was anything but nice to meet this woman who was rude one moment and then friendly the next.

"I've never met anyone with that name," Sara told her, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Well, obviously I've met another Sarah. You know, seeing as she leads the Lyons' Pride and all."

"Yep." Kristen Durga laughed a little.

"You're not really talkative, are you?"

"Not at three in the morning."

"Fair enough. You should bring your stuff by. I'll see what I can do with it. That is if you've got the caps for the parts."

"Oh, see I thought for a moment you were going to be generous there." Sara had not even thought of this retort; the words had simply flowed effortlessly in response to Durga. If she had to say something positive about the Knight Captain, it would be that she was surprisingly easy to joke with. But why did Sara find herself struggling for other things to say to her?

"Hardly," Durga replied.

"Can you repair my stuff now?" _Why? _Sara's head screamed at her. Durga was being remotely polite now…so what? That certainly didn't mean Sara wanted to spend time with her.

"Right now? I guess…I don't sleep much anyways."

"Great! I'll meet you in the Armory in about two minutes." Sara retreated to the quiet stillness of the mess hall. Careful to move as silently as possible, she pulled her trusty hunting rifle from the footlocker at the end of the bed. Her fingers practically tingled as they met the smooth exterior of the gun: this hunk of metal had saved her from several feral ghouls, radscorpions, and one Raider who seemed particularly antsy to rape someone that day.

That's all this sudden eagerness was about, she assured herself. She was eager to fire this baby off again. She would go out in the morning and shoot the shit out of that dummy outside while she pretended it was Colonel Autumn or a Raider. A dark corner of her mind suggested she could even pretend it was Amata, the selfish, in-bred bitch she'd been foolish enough to love. Luckily, the Wasteland had no room for love, except the kind between a girl, her gun, and her dog. And maybe a dumbass Super Mutant when he wasn't getting stuck in doors or screaming "YOU LOSE!" when he obliterated a hapless, wandering Brahmin.

Durga was waiting in the Armory as promised. She'd left the cell door open while she sorted through a random assortment of spare parts on some shelves near her bed.

"Can I come in?" Sara asked cautiously, not wanting to invoke a snide comment because she'd violated some unspoken Brotherhood rule.

"Sure," replied Durga. "But don't get used to it. If other people were around you wouldn't get back here until you'd earned the title of Sentinel."

"I just brought one gun," Sara told her as she stepped into the back of the Armory. "I didn't want to overwhelm you."

"You can't. I've seen it all." Sara doubted that. Durga turned to face her and caught sight of the hunting rifle in her hands. The knight captain reached out to take it from her, and Sara instinctively jerked it away.

"Hey, take it easy. I'm not going to steal this piece of crap."

"It's not a piece of crap!" Sara hissed. "This thing has saved my life countless times!"

"I was _joking_," Durga snapped, clearly very irritated. "Do you want me to fix it or would you prefer to just stand there and whine?"

"I want you to fix it," Sara said, angrily shoving the weapon into Durga's hands. The force of her shove caused Durga to take several steps backward. The knight captain's face hardened.

"I didn't know vaults let their bratty twelve year olds wander free around the Wasteland. Did mommy give you all those caps?"

"MY MOTHER IS DEAD!" Sara screamed. "FUCK YOU. YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" She took several steps toward Durga who raised the hunting rifle in defense, then thought better of it and turned her rage to the shelf of assorted parts.

"YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW. NONE OF YOU DO!" She threw her hands into the scraps of metal and threw them clattering to the floor. "YOU SIT HERE ALL FUCKING COZY IN YOUR CITADEL AND PRETEND YOU'RE BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE. DID YOU WATCH YOUR DAD DIE, KRISTEN?" She grabbed the middle shelf and yanked it roughly out of its frame.

A shower of nails, scrap metal, and ammunition rained magnificently loudly to the floor. Sara kept screaming as she pulled each shelf free of the metal frame. She flung the top one behind her. Durga was forced to duck to avoid it.

"I'VE KILLED PEOPLE! I NEVER KNEW MY MOM, AND I DON'T HAVE A HOME TO GO TO ANYMORE! ALL I HAVE LEFT IS MY FUCKING DOG!"

She heard several bangs as doors flew open throughout the Citadel. She hoped every single one of them would come and see what she'd done. They should come and see that Sara Fairchild was no calm-headed, warm-hearted hero.

Elder Lyons entered first, his long robes sweeping behind him as he ran. Paladin Gunny and Star Paladin Cross, who both held their weapons at the ready, flanked him.

"What is this?" Lyons demanded.

"I'M NOT YOUR FUCKING HERO! I WISH YOU'D LEFT ME IN THAT ROOM AT PROJECT PURITY!"

"Get a sedative!" Gunny called to someone behind him.

Sara sank to her knees, entire body shaking with hysterical sobs, into a heap surrounded by a halo of weaponry.

"No, wait, don't!" Someone had stepped in between her and Paladin Gunny who now wielded a rather ominous looking syringe. "She's not actually hurting anyone-"

Sara felt the needle slide into her arm despite the person's objections. Everything soon became pleasantly warm and hazy. She felt her mind slipping into a realm of beautiful nothingness. Her last thought as she felt her face hit the floor was the hope that she wouldn't wake up.


	4. Amends

"You do not seem to understand the gravity-"

"I understand the damage, Elder, but she wasn't-"

"You do not interrupt me ever again, Knight Captain. Do you understand me?"

A mumble of acknowledgement.

Everything came into clear focus so rapidly Sara felt it might cause her to get sick. She raised a hand that felt unusually heavy to her forehead and closed her eyes to block out reality. Memories of the damage she'd caused came flooding back.

_Fuck._

She heard a sinister _click _somewhere near her head not a second before a pair of hands grabbed her arms, forced them together painfully and shoved her into a seated position. The rapidity of the upward motion caused her to gag as her empty stomach tried to throw up its nonexistent contents.

"Open your eyes." She obeyed the voice, which sounded suspiciously like Star Paladin Cross, and blinked. The star paladin was very suddenly in her face, and Sara made a feeble attempt to jerk away from this woman and whoever held her arms.

"Let my arms go," Sara demanded. "You're hurting me."

"Sara, do you remember what you did?" Cross asked in a failed attempt at a gentle tone.

"Yes, I remember. Let me go!" She tried to pull away again and the grip on her arms tightened further, pushing her shoulder blades together.

"Stop it!" she yowled. "I'm not going to do anything!"

"Lay off it, Gunny," Kristen ordered from near the doorway. Sara hadn't noticed she was there until she spoke. "If she's stupid enough to try anything, we've got all her weapons."

Sara could feel the reluctance in Gunny's grip as he released her arms. One shoulder popped painfully as she reached back to rub it.

"I'm really nauseous," she told the crowd around her.

"That is an effect of the sedative," Elder Lyons replied from a safe position several feet away. "It will wear off shortly."

"Take my caps," Sara told him, trying to focus on her right shoe and finding her vision did not permit it.

"I'm sorry?" Elder Lyons asked.

"My caps. I want you to take them to pay for whatever damage I did. I don't remember how much I had in my bag, but it should at least cover some of it."

"I appreciate that," said Elder Lyons. "But you must know our trust in you cannot be bought."

Sara nodded in defeat. Logically, she knew that offering to pay for the damages would in no way automatically place her back into the position of high esteem she'd held before her outburst. However, some tiny corner of mind had hoped against hope that just maybe Elder Lyons would let this one time go with little to-do. Grief made people do strange things. Everyone in the Capital Wasteland knew that.

"You will also assist Knight Captain Durga in the clean-up," Lyons continued. "And I must, at least temporarily, ban you from accessing A and B-Rings."

"What?" Sara cried. "Please, Elder Lyons, you know I would never-"

"I thought I knew what the daughter of James Fairchild would never do, and I was wrong."

Sara could handle whatever punishment or compensation Elder Lyons demanded of her, but his decision to bring James into this was a low blow. She staggered to her feet, unable to be in his sanctimonious presence any longer. Paladin Gunny made to reach out and restrain her, but Kristen snapped at him to let Sara go.

"I'll go with her," she told Elder Lyons who seemed reluctant to let Sara wander free.

"Bring her caps whenever you get a chance," she added abrasively to Gunny as she holstered her pistol and followed the Lone Wanderer out the door.

Sara did not appreciate being followed, but her legs, still unsteady from the sedative, and a desire to not appear suspicious prohibited her from fleeing. A mixture of painful emotions bubbled painfully in her chest: anger at Elder Lyons for his pretentiousness and irritation at the knight captain now silently following her. It was the strong sense of emptiness, however, that brought tears to her eyes as she shuffled out into the Citadel Laboratory. Scribes, knights, and initiates alike stared as she passed, undoubtedly witnesses to her explosion in the Armory.

Her feet led her back to the Armory of their own accord. She was appalled at the damage as she stepped in: a flood of splintered metal, rusted nails and spare weaponry lay scattered over the entire floor. The sedative seemed to have affected her memory; she could have sworn it wasn't half this bad. There was no way she had enough caps to cover this.

"You should sit," Kristen spoke up from behind her. "That sedative could take out a Deathclaw."

"I feel fine," Sara insisted.

"Yeah, but if you fall you land on guaranteed tetanus. Just sit."

Unwilling to start another argument, Sara carefully picked a path through the mess and flopped down onto Kristen's bed. She put her head in her hands and closed her eyes: partially to hide her tears and partially to avoid gazing upon the damage she'd caused.

"I'm so sorry," she said into her hands. Kristen shrugged but Sara did not see it, hidden behind her hands.

"I'd be lying if I told you I hadn't been tempted to do it at times."

"Yeah, but you didn't."

A crunch of metal told Sara that Kristen was slowly picking her way through the Armory. A moment later, she felt the mattress depress beside her.

"I think you and I are a lot more similar than anyone would like to admit," Kristen continued.

"We're not," argued Sara. "You're a Knight Captain in the Brotherhood of Steel. Don't reduce yourself to being like me." Kristen ignored this self-depreciative comment.

"We're both stubborn. We're both orphans with no place other than the Citadel to call home. We both think Dogmeat is a pretty fantastic guy." This earned a small smile from Sara. "We're both lesbians."

Sara felt her face grow hot with indignation: that was an unfair accusation for someone who had just met her…even if it was true. The only two people she'd ever told were both dead. Sometimes she thought perhaps that was the universe's way of telling her that her feelings weren't okay. After all, a close brush with death at Project Purity followed the one time she'd acted on those feelings when she fucking soaring on Jet for 120 caps back in Megaton.

"I'm not!" she insisted, glaring at Kristen.

"We both know you're lying. I'm not going to run around announcing it to everyone here if that's what you're worried about. Hell, you're the only person I've ever explicitly told."

"I am?" Sara was dumbfounded that Kristen would choose her of all people to confide about this in. "But…you hardly know me."

"Yeah, well, we have to look after each other, don't we?"

"I guess so," Sara conceded. "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? Especially after what I did…"

"You're the realest person I've met in a long time. You get angry or upset, and you're not afraid to mask it under some crazy devotion to technology."

"You sound bitter."

"I'm eternally grateful for the Brotherhood. It's the closest thing I've had to a family in a long time, but I just wish…I'd like to be out in the field using the weapons for once instead of back here repairing them. I just don't know why Elder Lyons is so determined to keep me back here. I'm the only knight captain who isn't in Lyons' Pride."

"We both just need to prove ourselves to him," Sara told her.

"Yeah, good luck with that," Kristen scoffed. "If there's any pair more set in their ways than Elder Lyons and his daughter then I'll go pet a Deathclaw."

Sara and Kristen spent the remaining daylight hours cleaning up the Armory. Dogmeat popped in to find the cause of all the noise, but they were forced to shut him out of the cell when he nearly stepped on a rusty nail. By the time the sliver of sun visible through the low, yellowish clouds had disappeared; the Armory was more or less in the same shape it had been before Sara's outburst.

Paladin Gunny brought the sizeable sack Sara tucked her caps in to Kristen, as well as the two iguana-on-a-sticks the knight captain had asked him to bring. His anger with Sara had clearly not yet abated as he shoved the food at her with painful force. She accepted it from him with feeble thanks that he shrugged off.

Exhausted, Sara got up to leave the Armory fairly early into the evening. Kristen grabbed her arm as she went.

"Wait," she told the Lone Wanderer. She pressed a handful of caps into the girl's hand. "That should be about one hundred or so. It's not a lot, but I don't want you to have nothing if you decide to go out again."

"No, you don't have-"

"And I'm still working on your hunting rifle. I'm taking the cost of the spare parts out of the bunch of caps you gave me. Obviously you can't go around with it, so I'll hold onto it for you until you need it."

"Thank you…"

"Just don't break it, outsider." They smiled at each other briefly before a collective uproar sounded from the laboratory.

Both young women rushed to the cell door; Kristen threw it open and practically hurtled out into the laboratory with Sara and Dogmeat right behind her.

A visibly distressed Elder Lyons was speaking in a low voice with several high-ranking Brotherhood members while the scribes and initiates around them stared at one another in disbelief. Scribe Rothchild sat on one of the ruined couches, shaking his head into his hands.

"I don't understand how this could happen," he insisted. "Years of work…what kind of technology is capable of that?"

"What's happened?" Kristen pressed him. He glanced up at her with the expression of a man who had lost a child.

"The Enclave has destroyed Liberty Prime."


	5. Holotape

The Citadel remained in a confused state of borderline panic for the next several hours. Elder Lyons called an emergency meeting with Lyons' Pride, and they had disappeared into The Den to discuss the future of the fight against the Enclave without Liberty Prime. Scribe Rothchild secluded himself in his room just outside of the mess hall with a large bottle of whiskey and refused to talk to anyone. Even Fawkes was hard pressed to find something optimistic to say.

Sara retreated to her room, eager to avoid the commotion, which began to dangerously remind her of her escape from Vault 101. She still felt sleepy from the sedative but remained awake for many, long hours. She made a point of paying rapt attention to the sounds outside in the laboratory, hoping to avoid getting lost in her thoughts. The thoughts came anyways, becoming more fragmented as she drifted into semi-consciousness despite her attempts to stay alert.

_"You're a hero…and you have to leave."_

_ The intensely euphoric haze that came over her mind as the inhalation of Jet settled blissfully into her bloodstream._

_ The sneer on the raider's face as he tugged viciously at her jumpsuit. How she'd blasted the entirety of his skull, with the exception of his lower jaw, away with one pull of the trigger._

_ Nova's tongue between her legs and how she fucking hated herself for the way it made her inside explode with the most intense orgasm she'd ever had._

_ Kristen_.

Something very cold and wet pressed itself against the bridge of Sara's brow, startling her into consciousness. She quickly realized it was Dogmeat who had an annoying habit of waking her up this way and swatted him away.

"Could you just bark or something next time?" she whined, refusing to open her eyes. The dog whined in response to her complaint. She suddenly felt a bit bad for swatting him away like that and opened her eyes to find his, one blue and one green, right in her face. She laughed at his confused express despite her irritation with him.

"You hungry, bud?" she asked, reaching out to rub his ears. "Wait…what have you got in your mouth? Drop it!" He obediently let a rather soggy piece of paper fall from his mouth into her open hand.

For a brief second, she feared it was the photograph of her and James she'd thrown into the corner several days earlier and felt rage at the dog swell in her. However, she soon caught sight of some loopy, unfamiliar handwriting scrawled on the front. It said _Sar_ with a faded and runny "a" at the end, almost not visible because of the collection of dog drool that threatened to blot it out completely. Who was stupid enough to put a note in a dog's mouth she wondered. Could Fawkes write?

She gently unfolded the note and sat up to read it better. Luckily, the paper was a bit hardier than she'd originally guessed and the loopy handwriting inside the note had escaped the looming threat of dog slobber.

_I hope this gets to you. I tried to make a makeshift collar for Dogmeat and attach a note to it, but he kept finding ways to try to eat it. Come see me in the Armory as soon as you can. I have something important to show you._

_Kristen_

"Why do you have to eat everything?" Sara asked Dogmeat. He wagged his tail in response as if acknowledging this bad habit of his and finding it funny nonetheless.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed and stretched, joints popping audibly in protest. Dogmeat laid his head on her knee and sighed contentedly with his usual "_Arooo_". There were few things Sara loved more in the world.

"Let's go visit the Armory, big guy," she told him, finally standing up. They traipsed their way out of the mess hall and out into the laboratory. Sara kept her gaze firmly on the ground, but she was still all too aware of the heated glares many of the paladins she passed gave her. The Brotherhood was clearly not one to forgive easily.

By the time the pair arrived in the Armory, Sara's face was hot with shame. She knew what she'd done was wrong, and she was _damn _sorry it had happened. Had all those paladins never grieved before and, therefore, could not understand her actions or were all they just too high and mighty to give a shit?

Dogmeat ran forward and threw his front paws up on the barred counter separating him from Kristen. She smiled at the ecstatic mutt and reached through the slot to rub his snout. Sara approached the counter less enthusiastically.

"I got your note," she muttered.

"That's a miracle with this guy as messeng-why are you so flushed? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Sara insisted monotonously. Kristen was clearly not convinced as she made her way out of the cell and over to the lone wanderer.

"Do you have a fever? That can be a side effect of the sedative. I told Gunny he shouldn't have used it on you." She laid a hand on Sara's cheek.

"Who are you? My mother?" Sara snapped. She wanted to pull away…so why wasn't she doing so? "I don't have a fever. Everyone just glared at me on my way here. No one's ever going to forgive me for what I did."

"You turn a delightful shade of pink when you're embarrassed," Kristen joked.

"Jonas always said it clashed horribly with my hair," Sara replied, indicating her red locks.

"Who's Jonas?"

"A friend from another life."

'From the Vault?"

Sara nodded, unwilling to pursue the subject. Kristen seemed to get the hint.

"I have a note for you," the knight captain said, switching gears. "It's from Dr. Li. She left it for you before she left this morning."

"Left?" Sara asked. "Where did she go?"

"She didn't tell me. Star Paladin Cross said she'd mentioned heading to the Commonwealth. She couldn't stand it here anymore…said she couldn't stand being around you."

"Around me? I saved her life!"

"I think it has to do with your dad. Everyone who met him says you look so much like him."

"She's just upset that my dad chose my mom twenty years ago instead of her. Stupid bitch-she was always fawning over him when we were all together at Project Purity." Kristen raised her eyebrows, half taken aback and half amused by Sara's assertiveness.

"Uh…do you want the note or not?"

"Oh…yeah, I guess I should read it."

"Listen to it," Kristen corrected. "It's a holotape." She pulled the disc from her back pocket and handed it over.

"If you don't mind, I'll listen to-" Sara motioned to the room just outside that separated the laboratory and the armory.

"No, of course."

Back in her room, Sara waited as the holotape downloaded onto her Pip-Boy's audio system. She wasn't even sure she wanted to listen to it-what could Dr. Li possibly have to tell her that was so important? It wasn't as if she had ever acted grateful or even thanked Sara for her work with Project Purity or for saving most of the team's lives. The one time Sara had confronted the doctor about the way she looked at James, he'd had to step in to calm things down.

Fortunately, she didn't have to make the choice whether to listen to the holotape or not. It started automatically once it finished downloading into her Pip-Boy.

"_Sara, I know that we may not have started…or ended on the best of terms, but I want you to know that doesn't mean I'm not grateful for all you've done or that I don't care deeply about you." _Sara forced herself to bite back her scoff.

"_I allowed my anger toward your father for abandoning the project to affect how I treated you. You look so much like him; it would be difficult to remember that you're two separate people if you didn't have a personality nearly identical to your mother's." _Dr. Li laughed softly at some unknown memory of Catherine. "_I'm leaving for the Commonwealth very early tomorrow. Now that I've…that we've activated the purifier and done what your parents and I set out to do over two decades ago, I can't stand being in the Wasteland anymore. It's stolen so much from both of us._

_ I've left some things I think you should have in my room in Rivet City. I don't have the key anymore-I'm pretty sure it's lost somewhere in the Taft Tunnel system under the Memorial. But if you're anything like your father, I have confidence that you can pick locks._

_ I don't know if we'll ever meet again. If we do, I want to get to know you, not just as James and Catherine's daughter. I was the first person to hold you when you were born…for about three seconds before your proud daddy about knocked me over to hold you. We were all very excited to meet you. If not…well…I feel like telling you to have a nice life is shallow. I'm sure you'll do great things. It's in your genes."_

Sara sighed as the audio ended, unsure of how to feel toward Dr. Li now. She realized now that she had probably missed out on a wealth of information about her mother and instantly regretted it. Catherine, the woman who had given her life and a middle name, was a source of constant, tantalizing mystery for the Lone Wanderer. Of course, photographs of Catherine had littered James' office back in Vault 101, but that was all she knew of her mother. What had her voice sounded like? What kind of mother would she have been?

And what on earth could Dr. Li have that would be of value to her? She reached over to Dogmeat who sat next to her, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as he panted in the stuffiness of the mess hall.

"Let's make a trip to Rivet City, buddy."

A few hours later, both lone wanderer and dog were relieved to finally catch sight of the giant aircraft carrier in the distance. The sun seemed unnaturally brutal on their trip over, and Sara's supply of purified water was running low. Off in the distance, she could see the top of the Jefferson Memorial. Eager to avoid thinking about all that had occurred in that damn building, she bent down and poured the remainder of her water into Dogmeat's parched mouth. He licked her hand in thanks.

The strong, westward wind carried the sound of the gruff voices of super mutants. Sara's hands flew to her hunting rifle as Dogmeat bared his teeth. However, as soon as the wind stopped so did the sounds. Sara remembered something Star Paladin Cross used to tell her: "The wind always lies."

Nonetheless, she did not want to wait around for the super mutants to catch up with her and her overenthusiastic protector. She suddenly wished Kristen were with them which surprised her.

"C'mon, Dogmeat," she said. The mutt either did not hear her or chose not to listen as he rotated on the spot, guttural growls issuing from deep in his belly. "They're not here yet. You're growling at sand." Irritated, Sara placed her hands on the dog's backside and pushed. His paws dug into the ground in protest.

"Fine, wait here and defend yourself when the super mutants catch up," she said, beginning to walk off. She knew perfectly well he would immediately run after her, and, sure enough, she hadn't made it five steps away before he bounded over to her side.

The entrance to Rivet City had changed since Sara had last seen it. Several shoddily dressed merchants lounged in a tent constructed by the ramp that led up to the entrance. Sara cautiously approached the tent, and the three men inside glanced up as she made her way over.

"Hey!" she called out, hoping this would signal to them that she was friendly.

"Hey yourself, pretty lady," one of them called back.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Where have you been the past three weeks, girl?" the eldest of the group replied. "We're water caravan drivers for hire."

"Water caravans? You mean with purified water?" They all laughed.

"Look, I admit I ain't always been the most honest man," one of them said. "But I don't go around selling people irradiated water. You just crawl out of a Vault or something?"

"I was in a coma," Sara said coldly. Realization up lit the eyes of the man who had responded to her greeting.

"You're the Lone Wanderer! Three Dog said you was in a coma after you activated the purifier." It did not escape Sara's notice that his eyes slid hungrily down her body. "I'd sure love a tumble with you, pretty baby?"

"Fuck off," Sara snapped, her hand sliding to the hunting rifle strapped across her back. Dogmeat recognized this motion meant danger and growled threateningly at the man who backed off.

"It was a joke, girl."

"So is your life. I didn't realize the Brotherhood was so desperate to distribute clean water that they'd employ someone like you." The other two men in the tent laughed uproariously as the first one's mouth fell open in shock at the Lone Wanderer's audacity.

"You should talk to Officer Leptellier if you want to know more," the oldest man told her through chuckles. "Her office is right up on the ramp. But be forewarned, she ain't the nicest of ladies."

With muttered thanks, Sara turned to the ramp and began the climb up it. Dogmeat followed, glancing with mistrust back at the merchants in the tent every so often.

A rather frazzled looking security guard sat behind a metal desk perched atop the first ramp.

"Oh God, who are you?" she asked Sara. "I swear, if Bigsley's sent me another dim-witted Raider looking for some quick caps and a way to steal some Aqua Pura-"

"I'm not a Raider!" Sara responded angrily. "And I don't know who Bigsley is. I'm here on personal business, so you don't need to worry about me." Leptellier's face softened a little.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just swamped up here. Someone's been attacking our water caravans, and Bigsley keeps sending me dumbshits to help "guard" them. Almost none of them come back. I sent out seven caravans this week. Two have returned."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sara told her sincerely. "Good luck." She and Dogmeat continued their climb up toward Rivet City. She could feel the burn of Officer Leptellier's eyes on her back. A few weeks ago Sara would have immediately offered her help: anything to advance her father's dream of pure water throughout the Wasteland. Now…she honestly didn't care. Whether it was because she missed her father or she was mad at him (maybe even a bit of both), she did not know. Right now, she needed to know what Dr. Li wanted to give her…she needed to do something for herself for once. Something not for Amata, not for her father, not for the Wasteland and Three Dog's good fight but for herself.

Harkness nodded at her as she crossed the bridge and entered the stairwell. Sara liked their silent understanding of one another: she'd convinced Dr. Zimmer his coveted android was dead, so Harkness made sure no one gave her any shit. She doubted he would appreciate the fact that she was about to go pick her way into someone's room though.

She didn't need the clearly marked signposts to guide her to the science lab. She could and would always remember the first time she'd traversed her way to it a few months ago, still innocent cheeks flushed with excitement.

_"He's here, he's here," she'd told herself with each step. He was surely in the science lab working alongside this mysterious Dr. Li. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, to scream at him, to do something to show him that the note he'd left with Jonas was so very wrong. She still needed her daddy. Except all she found was a very flustered Dr. Li and no sign of James at all._

She pulled a handful of bobby pins from the bundle in the front pocket of her bag, and, after checking that Dr. Preston or any conscious patients were not in the clinic, set to work on the lock.

"Watch my back, Dogmeat," she told the mutt who was panting from the brisk trip throughout the corridors. He stared at her dumbly and wagged his tail.

"Thanks for your help," she said sarcastically, laying an affectionate hand on his head before turning back to her work.

It only took two broken bobby pins before the lock clicked and the door cracked open. Sara was suddenly and irrationally apprehensive. She'd never had a moral problem with lock picking before. Back in the Vault, this skill had allowed her to steal Fancy Lad Snack Cakes to share with Amata from Tom Holden's secret stash. Hell, Dr. Li had explicitly given her permission to pick the lock on her door open. Something about opening that door and walking into the darkened room terrified her for no reason at all.

She cracked the door open a bit more, stuck her arm through the opening and groped on the wall for the light switch. She found it and turned it on and a light flickered feebly on inside. The light made the room seem a little less foreign.

Gathering her courage, she stepped inside and found a relatively simply room. A queen-sized bed took up a large portion of the space inside and several drawers were scattered around to store odd bits and ends. Several holotapes were stacked neatly on the one nearest the bed. On top of the pile were three words scribbled hastily on the pack of a Blamco Mac & Cheese box wrapper:

_For you, Sara_

She picked them up and methodically downloaded the audio into her Pip-Boy one at a time. Her heart was racing painfully in her chest: what was on these holotapes? Would it be Dr. Li speaking to her? Some old scientific tapes the woman thought she'd find useful? The first tape began to play once they had all finished downloading:

_"Well, there's no more mystery behind Catherine's health problems. The news of her pregnancy has lifted the spirits of everyone here, and given us a renewed interest in making the purifier work. We now have a future generation to provide for…"_

Sara's knees gave out as the voice of her father from twenty years ago spoke to her. Luckily, she was standing near the bed and landed hard on the mattress. His voice filled the room and her head…she would do anything to dive right into her Pip-Boy and be there with him twenty years ago at Project Purity.

There were four tapes. The first two spoke of tests at Project Purity, the scientists' tense relationship with the Brotherhood, and her…before she was even born. Her heart broke further whenever he turned his attention away from talking about the Project and began to talk about Catherine and her. She could tell from his voice that whenever he did so his eyes lit up the way they had whenever she'd made him proud back in the Vault. It was strange to hear herself referred to simply as "the baby", yet James' love for her before he even met her seeped through in his words.

The third tape was far shorter than the first two. Her father choked his way through the words in it:

_"I am at a loss. My beloved wife is gone. In her place is my daughter, small and helpless…"_

It was then that Sara realized her hands were shaking. His grief from almost two decades ago was tangible. Had he felt that way when he'd walked out of the Vault and away from the very same daughter he mentioned in the holotape? And as she contemplated this, the fourth tape began. It was a woman speaking:

_"That batch of tests was inconclusive, but Madison and I are convinced it's a problem with the second filtration system. We're going to recalibrate…James!" _The woman laughed and in it Sara heard herself. _"Stop, I need to finish these notes!"_

It was her mother. It was Catherine. A feeling completely inexplicable swelled up inside her, and she broke down and wept. Her tears were not of sadness though, but of joy. Her Pip-Boy now held beautifully clear evidence that her mother was a real person who had once been full of life, who had once put her own brilliance to the task of purifying the Wasteland's water, who had once so obviously loved James.

Dogmeat began to pace as Sara sat on the bed and replayed her mother's voice over and over. It wasn't until she heard Dr. Preston moving around in the clinic nearby that she remembered where she was. Her Pip-Boy told her that she'd been sitting there for nearly an hour listening to her parents' voices.

She snuck out of Dr. Li's room cautiously and waved innocently at Preston as she and the mutt passed the clinic. On the way back to the Citadel, she kept her Pip-Boy light on to illuminate the way and the four new holotapes on looped replay. She knew it was foolish to make that kind of noise as she traversed the Wasteland in the dark with only a dog and a hunting rifle to protect her, but she didn't care. By the time the traveling duo reached the Citadel it was nearly midnight, and Sara could recite all four tapes by heart. Not even the harsh looks several Brotherhood members gave her as she entered the Laboratory could bring her down.

Once back in her room, she finally stopped the audio, scooped the photograph up from the corner, and smoothed the crinkles out of it. She spoke to the man in the photograph and hoped that somehow, somewhere he could hear her.

"I miss you, Dad."


End file.
